Disclaimer: Don't eat the pictures when you go to the museum.

Spoilers: Guilty Pleasure.

Summary: Fair warning for M rating in regard to naughtiness. Tony takes a silly risk and Ziva pays him back. Light bondage and dinner (concurrent), and aforementioned naughtiness.

Tony realized that he wasn't going to be able to play any of this off as a hilarious prank when the door started to shake on its hinges with the force of the banging outside. It was fortunate that he had no need to check the peephole, as it would probably give him a black eye. The longer he could put off physical damage, the better. It was probably inevitable at this point.

Metal clicking against metal told him that it was time to take self-defense to the next level. He reached forward tentatively and ran the chain across just as the lock on the knob turned. He turned and ran toward the kitchen, ignoring a curse as the door caught on the chain. A pair of bolt cutters slipped through the crack and snipped the chain when he turned with the chair he had been intending to use as a block on the door. New plan. He held up the chair, wishing he had a whip. Or that he was facing a lion instead. He attempted one last stab at levity. "Who carries around a pair of bolt cutters?"

"People who have just received calls from prostitutes telling them to come to this address to fulfill a request of 'Spicy Canton,' whatever that may be." Tony watched as Ziva turned to close and lock the door, removing the now useless chain from the slide. "Perhaps you can tell me before I do something we will both regret."

"Heh, yeah." He was careful to maintain his grip on the chair, holding it high. "I'm just gonna fess up and tell you that I thought it would be funny if you got a call from Holly Snow like you were one of her girls telling you to come here and…look, I just slipped her twenty bucks and it was a dumb joke. I didn't think about how offensive it would be or what a jerk I'd look like and please don't hurt me."

"I will not. It is not included in the Spicy Canton package." Ziva swung her backpack off her shoulder, creating a clinking that made him wonder what was included. He cringed as she reached into the front pocket until she pulled out a piece of paper. "Oh, and Holly says that twenty dollars won't get you anything and is actually kind of insulting. I told her I would make sure you got the message."

"Oh, I got it. Don't mess with the Madam or you'll get the Crazy Israeli. I'm guessing that's not on the menu?" Tony was reluctant to put down his protective chair, even though she was reaching toward him with her paper.

"This is the only menu we will concern ourselves with. I think it may be a generic Chinese restaurant rather than something specifically Cantonese, but…"

"Hold on. I had the DC Madam call you and you're buying me take out?"

"No, you are buying. I brought beer and I will replace your chain at some point."

He finally put down his chair to accept the menu and the six-pack of Corona she had produced from her backpack. "I suppose I should just enjoy this alternate reality while it lasts."

She shrugged. "I believe you did not get what you paid for, in spite of what Holly normally charges. I had some fun with it, now we will order dinner and watch…baseball. That is an American thing to do, yes?"

"Really getting revved up for that citizenship test, huh?" He put the beer in the refrigerator before focusing on the menu. This was turning into a fairly nice night for… "Hey, do you smell something?"

Tony started to feel a little woozy as a damp cloth covered his mouth. He couldn't be sure, but he thought Ziva was laughing as he slowly tipped forward to the kitchen floor.

Tony was slow to wake, first rolling his eyes behind his eyelids and seeing nothing but the red insides. Wherever he was, he was tied up and naked, probably on a bed. He shifted under what felt like a satin sheet. Nice. Or it could be nice, provided he had any idea why he was naked and tied up and smelling Chinese food. What the hell was going on?

When he finally opened his eyes, he discovered the red light was not a result of bright light filtering through skin, but the glow of red lightbulbs. It was strange, because he'd never had those in any of his bedroom lamps. Sure, there'd been that one time with the black light, but…hold on. He glanced around and confirmed that, yes, he was in his own bedroom. Maybe that was why he wasn't terribly concerned that he seemed to be tied to the headboard with silk scarves. He tugged at his wrists. Firmly knotted silk scarves. Okay.

He went back in his mind, trying to remember how this could have happened. He left work, went to the gym, showed at home, sat on the sofa to watch TV, flipped out when Ziva busted through the door and…and…

He jumped when the bedroom door creaked slightly as it swung open. Ziva walked in, wearing his bathrobe. "Uhhh…"

"You are awake. Right on time." She set a tray on the bedside table, solving the mystery of the take-out aromas. "Hungry?"

"A little. Maybe first you could explain how this happened."

"Moussad developed a fast-acting chloroform substitute some years ago. All the fainting and none of the hangover."

"Yeah, that's great, but…wait, you drugged me?"

"Do not worry. It was perfectly safe."

She walked out of the room and he shouted after her, "You knocked me unconscious! You took off my clothes! You tied me to the bed! You ordered take-out!" He paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm not okay with one of those things!"

Ziva reappeared with the six-pack she'd brought over. "The unconsciousness or the chest-waxing?"

He looked down, alarmed. "Holy…how did I not…this is…"

"It makes you look younger."

"Hm." He tried a few test-flexes of his pecs as best he could with his arms tied behind his head. "Okay, but my problem still comes in at the unconsciousness part."

"You have been out for less than an hour. I needed the time."

"Did you shave anything besides my chest?"

She didn't answer, instead pulling the end of the belt of his robe. It dropped to the floor; his jaw would have followed, if he had not been tied to the headboard. Actually, it was probably best that he was tied down, because it forced him to stay where he was and appreciate Ziva's lingerie. "Oooh."

"So the black was a good choice?"

"I…it's hard to tell…color…in the light." As if color overrode curvy lines. He realized the blood flow to his brain wasn't going to be at peak efficiency much longer, so he looked down. "How did you know I like garters?"

Her laugh was deep and throaty. "I know you like beer as well."

He shuddered as she squeezed a sliver of lime over his newly-smooth chest. "Oh, what are you…? Oooh." He fought to keep still as she poured a small amount of beer on his stomach at an angle that caused it to run into his bellybutton. "What are you…?" He gave up trying to control the direction of blood flow as she lapped the beer and lime juice from his torso. "Wha…why?"

"Ssshh." She tasted of beer when she kissed him, distracting him to the point where he didn't realize he was being blindfolded until the red lights were blotted out. "Ziva?"

"This is not how Holly described the 'Spicy Canton,' but I think you will like this better." He felt something hot and sticky on his chest. "Mmm."

He almost didn't notice that he was being offered something to eat because she was licking the sauce off him. "Oh, hot, hot. General Tso?"

"Good job." He felt another hot object followed by a wet tongue sliding across his chest. "And this?"

Beef something? He didn't care. He would have eaten anything in this manner. "Can I…" He was reluctant to interrupt the proceedings, but the spiciness of the chicken tingling on his tongue was distracting him. "I need something to drink? Please?"

The cold glass of a beer bottle was lifted to his lips. He went on eating anything she first pressed against his skin until he felt the mattress shift as she straddled him. He got the impression that he was supposed to continue tasting and obliged, encountering soft skin. Inner thigh? Pushing his tongue forward, he heard her gasp. After a few moments, he muttered, "You might enjoy this more if you untied me."

"Did I ask you to speak?" He felt his head pushed further back by her hips and focused as best he could while blindfolded. It wasn't terribly difficult. He prayed his neighbors weren't home as Ziva expressed her satisfaction with his mouth.

He thought he was about to be rewarded for his efforts when she abruptly slipped off him. "Uh…"

The bed beside him sank almost immediately as she pressed against his side. Why had she blindfolded him before she got naked? He was afraid to suggest that she move the sheet covering him from the waist down; her leg draped over his would probably mean an hour layoff if there were skin contact at that level right now. It was hard enough to maintain control as she nestled against him. "I thought perhaps you would like another drink."

"I kinda like the…" He coughed as the bottle clinked against his teeth and beer frothed in his mouth. "Right. Thanks." He shivered as the cold bottle settled just below his navel. "I…"

"Oh, I know." Her hand was cold and damp from the bottle as she grasped him.

"Mmm…I…"

"Sshhh."

He felt her climb on top of him, pushing the sheet from between their bodies as she did. He was unable to restrain himself from moaning, "Zee-vah…" as he pulled at his restraints, wanting to touch her.

She simply readjusted his blindfold as she settled onto him, hissing into his ear, "Behave."

Before he totally lost his head, he asked, "Did you get this idea from Holly Snow?"

"You think I need someone else to inspire me?" She twitched her hips. "Other than you, of course."

He waited for a moment to ensure that his voice would be steady. "So I should try to mess with you more often?"

"Do not make me gag you as well."

He obediently closed his mouth until he needed it again, though talking had become irrelevant.

Tony swung his arm around to smash the snooze button on the alarm clock. He was totally exhausted after the previous night of…wait. When had he been untied? He blinked at his wrists. No marks. Maybe that was because Ziva had tied him to the headboard with cloth. "Mmm, Ziva?" Searching for her, he ran his hand over the sheets – soft cotton rather than satin sheets. He blinked and discovered that it wasn't an illusion. His regular sheets were back on the bed. He peeked under the lampshade and found a plain old 60 watt bulb. Clicking it on and off produced none of the red glow of the previous night.

He was starting to feel confused. He was naked, but that just meant it was morning. Without grabbing his robe off the end of the bed where he always tossed it, he made a beeline for the kitchen. No leftovers, no containers in the trash, no dishes, no Corona empties… He was starting to wonder, in spite of the fatigue in his muscles, if he had just had some rather intense dreams. It was not going to be easy sitting at his desk across from Ziva all day if that were the case.

He shrugged and walked toward the shower, but stopped short in front of the mirror as he found the proof he needed that the previous night had been more than a fantasy. He rushed through the rest of his morning routine, wanting to get to work early to print out a 'No Entry' sign for the copy room door. He had the feeling his chest might start to get itchy when the hair started to grow back in.